Handle Me With Care
by Cordie Cat
Summary: Title derived from the famous song by the TRaveling Willburys, this is a story about coming of age and the highs and lows of growing up and growing old.


_Everybody says to keep your childhood, to hold on to every moment you have. After all these years, I agree with them. Those were the best years I ever had. Those were the best years Ill _ever _have. That's probably why im writing this down. Certain songs, these days, just make me think. I just wish we could go back and relive those moments of just doing absolutely nothing. I'd give anything to sit around in the dormitory doing nothing, again. I guess im old now. But I was always old. I listened to old music and they hated me because of it, but I still played it anyway. Big Band had always been a thing I liked. But I, even though I said I didn't, liked their music too. Cordie loved music. She played the hell out of all of her records. Records are terrible, they warp, they scratch, and they break if you touch them. I was exaggerating on the last bit, but they are terrible. I love records, though. Play them too often. _

_If my friends were still around, they'd kill me. I'm still playing Classical music. I can't play their music, anyway. Even though I probably have had all the Queen, one man can take in a life time, I do sometimes feel like listening to it. Not necessarily Queen, but something. Fly like An Eagle, That would be a nice one. I remember this one time, we were all about seventeen and Sirius got out that record. We sat there at three in the morning just singing it as loud as we could. 'Fly like an eagle, To the sea. Fly like an eagle, let my spirit carry me. Time keeps on slipping into the future.' Yes, that's how I remember it going. It was a great song. Time did keep slipping into the future. It slipped way too fast into the future. I want to go back. But it's impossible for an old man like me to be young again. I'm not that old. But I am in the middle of my life. And I can never go back. I can never go back. It's harsh words to hear something like that, especially when it's you saying it. Im just going to go to sleep. I don't even know why I wanted to do this in the first place. I guess it was just so I could temporarily go back and just see it again. A time warped mind never wins. I'll have to remember that._

He put down the old leather journal, placing his quill into it's holder. Remus sat back and looked hurt. Maybe it was time it's self that hurt him. Maybe he was just feeling his own fountain of youth die away. No one wants to grow old. But he had no one to grow old _with_. It was only him with the 'good old day' stories stuck in his head. These stories just wanted to play too. Over and over again, he would see them, like a never ending picture show. Sad thing was, most people could go up to there friend and say 'Remember that one time.' Heck, he didn't even have that liberty. But Remus was convinced that he was left here for a reason. There had to be a reason, in the big scheme of life, why all his friends died. He was just waiting for it to happen so he could say 'Now I understand.' But you can only act civil about these sort of things for so long. But Remus was a good man, and he trusted the world. Someday, he knew, his friend's sacrifices would make a big difference. Somehow...

It was getting too late, he realized looking at an old white clock sitting on his dresser. "Time for bed." Remus said aloud, stretching his arms up in the air then pushing away from the old oak desk, to stand up. He blew out the candle, that now was barely a clump of wax and groggily walked over to his bed. He kept on saying that he would get out a new candle, but he kept on forgetting to. Just like he kept on forgetting to mend the hole in the sleeve of his work jacket. Cordell would have said he looked like a layabout. So would Lily. He shook his head, pulling the musty quilt up over his shoulders. He looked out into the darkness, until his eye lids seemed too heavy to keep open. Remus John Lupin laid there with his eyes closed, distorted images kept going threw his head. Until the images grew clearer, Remus didn't know he was asleep. And when he knew that he had fallen into a dreamers trap, he rested in hopes for the next day.

1977

_Some people call me the space cowboy. Some call me the gangster of love. Some people call me Maurice 'cause I speak of the pomputus of love. Some people talk about me, baby. Saying im doing you wrong, doing you wrong. Well, don't you worry baby, don't worry. Cause im right here right here right here at home. Cause im a picker. Im a grinner. Im a lover. And im a sinner. I play my music in the sun. Im a Joker. Im a smoker. Im a midnight toker. I sure don't want to hurt no one_.

Remus Lupin's eyes fluttered open to the sounds of The Steve Miller Band, taking a chord and turning it into true music. The record echoed threw the Gryfindor common room at 6 o clock on that slow Saturday morning. No one was awake and no one really wanted to be. There was tests every day in every class, it seemed. The week had just dragged on and everyone was thankful for the right to over sleep.

_Im a picker. Im a grinner. Im a lover. And im a sinner. I play my music in the sun. Im a Joker. Im a smoker. Im a midnight toker. I get my loving on the run. _

"Sirius, turn off that record player. Too early." Remus managed to say. His mouth had that "morning" feel to it and he didn't have enough energy to get up and brush his teeth.

Sirius flinched. "what?" he opened an eye then quickly closed it again at the morning light. "Not me." He yawned shoving his head back into his goose down pillow.

_You're the cutest thing that I ever did see_._ I really love your peaches. Wanna shake your tree. Love a dove love a love a dovi all the time. Oo Wee baby I'll sure show you a good time._ "What do you mean it's not you? You're the only person with a record player in this whole school."  
Sirius, now somewhat awake, growled at Remus in annoyance "Dammit, I said it wasn't me." It was too early for polite responses, not saying that Sirius Black would be polite. James snorted as he guarded his stuffed bear, Mr. Foofy.

"What. What. what. Who's there? shut up. Go away." He mumbled in his sleep. Remus rubbed the dark circles away from under his eyes and pulled himself out of his four poster.


End file.
